


Call A Lawyer

by Faultier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Castiel is a murderer, Death, I know :-) didnt expect that huh, Lawyer Dean Winchester, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Lucifer is dead, Lucifer is murdered like right off the bat, Violence, in the future if i write more, its not a ton of violence and blood just kind of like mention and maybe a couple flashbacks, major character death is Lucifer by the way which is no spoiler it happens right away, technically in training
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9834569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faultier/pseuds/Faultier
Summary: Is There Bad Blood in the Shurley Family?This just in! Last night at 9:30 Castiel Shurley, 24, called 911 to report the death of his brother Lucifer Shurley, 29. But he also confessed to murdering his brother! There have been no reports released as to how Lucifer Shurley was killed, but rumor says that Castiel Shurley stabbed his brother in cold blood after the two had eaten dinner.Chuck Shurley has yet to say anything to the press, and neither has his two other sons–Michael Shurley, 31, and Gabriel Shurley, 27. Though it is expected that Michael Shurley and Gabriel Shurley will be at their father’s side within a few hours.The question is–why did Castiel Shurley murder his own brother?





	1. It Begins.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: I forgot to change it but Chuck Shurley is gonna be a NY SENATOR not a writer, but like I don't remember if I mentioned his career in here or not?

_January 2nd, 2016_

Of course everything went wrong on Castiel’s break. Of course a break from the stress of school everything crashes down. He gave one last screaming sob before he stood up, staring down at what he had done.

Everything stilled. Castiel was still for a few minutes, watching the puddle of blood grow. He looked down at his hands, blood was there too. He panicked, pulling his phone out and shakily pressing 9-1-1 and putting the phone up to his ear.

Castiel shut his eyes and turned his head away from the scene. But he couldn’t force his body to move away. He opened his eyes when the operator picked up.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

_There’s so much blood._

“H-he’s dead.”

_Why wouldn’t he move anymore?_

“Who? Sir?”

_Oh God, Castiel, what have you done?_

“M-My b-brother h-he’s–Oh god.”

_They’ll lock you up quick, no need for a trial._

“Sir please, where are you?”

 _Nobody would believe you. Nobody even_ likes _you._

“193rd Westchester Ave.”

_Just confess now, get it all over with._

“Sir please stay on the phone with me. Help is on the way. How do you know he’s dead?”

_They’ll find out anyway, it’d be better to just get rid of all the doubt now._

“I-I killed him.”

* * *

Forty-five minutes later and Castiel found himself shoved into a police car and on his way to prison, most likely. He had stayed on the phone with the man, but eventually stopped answering his questions.

There was no point in answering questions once the damage was already done.

He could still see his older brother Lucifer’s eyes staring right into him. He could still feel hands on his throat and attempted to rip them off when he remembered that Lucifer wasn’t there anymore.

Shock gave way to panic, Castiel felt his breathing picking up and tears started to form at the corners of his eyes. How could he do that? _How could I do that?_

Castiel was never a violent person. He was quiet, shy, and blended into the background. Unlike his siblings, who were often loud and very out there, he was the forgotten Shurley–in a way.

Renowned author Chuck Shurley had four children, of those children Castiel was the youngest and his brother Michael was the oldest. Castiel had just turned twenty four a few months ago, and would have graduated college with an Entomologist degree in two years time–though now it looked like Castiel wouldn’t make it to see his twenty-fifth birthday.

 _Did New York still have the death penalty?_ Castiel couldn’t think anymore. He felt like he could barely _breath_ . What did he do? _What_ did he _do?_

He couldn’t remember much of what happened afterwards. He was put in prison, and the judge was to post bail in a few days. They gave him his rights while arresting him, that he could either call his lawyer or one would be appointed to him. Castiel had no lawyer to call, though, so he’d have one appointed to him.

Unless his brothers still wanted to talk to him, if his father still wanted to talk to him. Maybe they could find one, or didn’t Chuck have a lawyer already?

But Castiel let everything wash over him, what chance did he have anyway? He had a zero chance of ever getting out of this, he was going to be tried and hanged. No, wait, they don’t hang people anymore do they? Castiel wasn’t even sure anymore.

All he knew was that his life was officially over.

* * *

 

_January 3rd, 2016_

“What?” Dean nearly spit his sandwich out. “No, no way Sam.”

“Dean, come on!” Sam shoved the newspaper in his older brothers face again. “Think about it! We win this case? We’d get so many new clients, we’d have a lot more money–and, _and_ we’d be able to work for free for the poor people.”

Dean wiped his face and looked at the headline. _‘Bad Blood in The Shurley Family? Castiel Shurley Admits to the Murder of His Own Brother!’_

“Sam, it’s a lost case. Sorry but the stupid kid already confessed to the murder. They got him at the scene, hell they have _literal blood_ on his hands.” Dean slammed the newspaper down on the table standing up to put his plate in the sink. “There’s no way.”

“Since when did you not like a challenge?” Their receptionist, Charlie spoke up. She was leaned against the doorway of their kitchen.

“I like challenges.” Dean said. “I just happen to like challenges where I actually have a _chance_ at winning. And I’m tellin’ you, this is impossible to win.” Dean shook his head. “Wait if _you’re_ here then who’s at the phone?”

“I made Kevin take them.” Charlie waved a hand. “He’s an intern, that’s what they’re for right?”

“I’m an intern.” Sam said. “Sort of.”

“Don’t leave Kev at the phone Charlie he’s gonna panic–or something.” Dean pointed out, walking towards the door to push Charlie back to her desk.

“It’s not like you guys have any clients anyway.” Charlie mumbled, but went back to the desk where a single phone and a laptop was set up.

Charlie wasn’t completely lying. The group had been going through a dry spell. When Dean first opened business, lower class families flocked to him because of his low prices. However with the new year they have had maybe two within the past few months. It wasn’t a pleasant situation, Charlie was working for free by now and Kevin and Sam were interning for free where they previously had a little bit of money given to them for working–just because Dean thought free-interning was stupid.

They have now converted their office into their home, making the living room and office downstairs for work related things while they all slept upstairs.

Who knows how long the little money they had would last, soon they may be doing business on the side of the road.

Kevin was twenty, and has only been working for them for under six months. They hadn’t needed more help but, Kevin needed the intern hours. He turned out to be very helpful, as he was still learning and reviewing law–which came in handy at times.

Sam was going to be twenty three, and technically he was interning for his big brother, though Dean let him speak a lot in the court. Sam was very good at pulling heart strings, while Dean was very good at delivering cold hard facts.

Dean and Charlie were both going to be twenty seven, and had started out as a tag team before Sam came along. They met in college, when Charlie was studying computers and Dean law, and clicked. When Dean first opened his own business, Charlie agreed to be his secretary. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with her degree, had only gotten it because she liked technology, and figured someone had to keep Dean’s ass in line.

Dean wanted to have more clients. He only went to law school because Sam suggested he try law when Dean had no idea what he wanted to do. And though it wasn’t Dean’s ideal job at first, he found that he was pretty damn good at it and he enjoyed it sometimes.

Just then there was a loud knock at their door, the whole crew swinging their heads open to look at the door. Dean, being the one owning this business, went and opened the door. He saw a figure running down the street to the left of their house but didn’t bother to follow because there was an envelope left on the top of their stoop.

“Guys, someone left this at the door?” Dean said, bringing the thick envelope in and dropping it on the “receptionist’s” desk. There was no return address, there was nothing written on it. Dean wondered if maybe someone didn’t mean to leave it on their doorstep at all. The four of them stared at the envelope for a few moments, before Charlie finally spoke up.

“Well if none of yall are gonna open this thing up–then I will!” She said, grabbing it and ripping the side off of it and pulled out a letter and three thick wads of cash. The letter was discarded in favor of staring at the wads of several hundred bills.

“Holy fuck.” Sam whispered, all of their eyes bulging at the money.

“Does this mean I’m getting a paycheck for the first time in four months?” Kevin whispered.

“Hey! Receptionists before interns, nerd!” Charlie shouted, playfully shoving him away.  “You’re not even _supposed_ to be paid!”

“Shut up all of you!” Dean shouted. “What the hell is this even for?” He asked, and Charlie handed him the letter and picked the letter up from the ground.

“It’s typed, so I guess we can’t track who wrote it.” She mumbled, then began to read. “It says ‘To Winchester. In this envelope I have left three wads of $30,000 in hundreds each. You can either keep this money and do with it whatever you wish. It’s in cash so I won’t be able to do anything about it if you just take the money and run. Or you can represent Castiel Shurley in his court case and have the money double–tripled even–whatever you want, if you win his case.”

Charlie looked up. “That’s it. That’s all it says.”

“Who the hell would leave this on our doorstep?” Sam wondered out loud.

“Who do you think Sam?” Kevin asked sarcastically. “Probably someone fucking with us– _or_ it’s a Shurley that still loves their murderous brother.”

“That’s a lot of money Dean.” Charlie said, looking at the man. “That’s more than we’ve had in awhile.”

“I’m tellin’ you Dean, it’s fate.” Sam said. “We _need_ to take this case.”

Everyone stared at Dean, holding their breath. Dean thought for a while. If they win this case people might think that they’re horrible people for defending a murderer–a confessed murderer at that. If they lose this case people might never want to hire them again, it could ruin their small reputation. But...

“We need to start getting things together, and schedule a meeting with Castiel.”

The three began to move around, Charlie taking to the desk and Kevin pulling open his laptop with Sam sitting next to him at the kitchen table.

 _Boy,_ Dean thought, _we have a lot of work to do._

* * *

 

_January 4th, 2016_

Castiel had not expect lawyers to show up this early. He hadn’t even expected whatever lawyers were assigned to him to meet with him yet. He expected that they’d meet with him a few days before the trial–if they did at all.

But here he was meeting with two guys who apparently want to represent him. Castiel kept his head down as the two men walked in. His hands were clasped together on the table, the guards took the handcuffs off at his lawyer’s request.

“Hello Castiel.” The slightly shorter one said. He had a deep voice, Castiel noticed. “I’m Dean Winchester, this is my younger brother Sam. We’re going to represent you during your trial.”

Castiel nodded, but didn’t say anything. What was there to say really? He killed his brother, end of story.

After a few awkward minutes of staring at each other Sam spoke up, shuffling a few papers around until he pulled out a pen and a notepad. He cleared his throat. “Well we’d like to start off with asking a few questions if you don’t mind.”

Castiel shrugged, and Sam seemed to take it as a sign to continue. “Well, since you admitted to-to the crime we’ll instead prove that you were defending yourself. So, were you and Lucifer arguing on the night of his death?”

Castiel thought for a moment. It wasn’t an argument really, but, they were yelling–he supposed. So he nodded. Sam wrote something down on the pad, but was frowning.

Castiel took the time to study the two brothers. It wasn’t obvious they were brothers at first, but studying closer he could see the resemblance. The same chin, similar eyes. Little things like that. Dean was more broad shouldered, while Sam was a little skinnier in his shoulders. Dean had tons of freckles it seemed like his skin was tan at first glance, while Sam had no freckles, his nose and ears pink from the cold outside still. It was obvious they didn’t come from money–well not _as much_ money as Castiel himself came from. Their suits looked nice, though staring at them long enough could see that there were a few strands that were falling out, there were parts where the fabric seemed thinner from wear and tear.

Both brothers seemed to look like they worked out.

Castiel never worked out, he didn’t think he ever had the time. He was too busy–avoiding his family, trying to finish college, working to support himself so that he can keep his apartment. He had downtime, but was much too tired to drag himself to the gym.

Castiel wasn’t sure he could really trust them. He felt small, weak, they could crush him–easily. Why were they his lawyers anyway?

The interview passed by much like that. Sam asked a general question, and Castiel answered with a shrug, a nod, or a shake of the head. Eventually Sam sighed and glanced at Dean, and the two stood.

“We have to go now, but we’ll be back tomorrow likely.” Dean spoke. And then the two brothers were gone and Castiel was being led back to his cell.

* * *

 

“What are we going to do?” Dean asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge–he really needed a drink right now.

“Pass me a beer?” Sam asked from the couch, clicking around on his laptop. Dean had no idea what his brother was doing.

“No you’re underage.” Dean said, and Sam turned around as Dean chucked a beer at him anyway–letting out a squawk as he tried to avoid getting hit in the face by it. Unfortunately for Dean–who’d love to retell the story–it landed in Sam’s lap.

“I’m not underage you–”

“Well, make him more comfortable.” Kevin spoke up from where he sat on the couch. He was shoving a sandwich in to his mouth, trying to finish math homework and not up for listening to the two brothers argue over stupid things. Dean groaned as he sat down between the two younger boys.

“Make him more comfortable? He’s in fucking jail? I don’t see how you can make that comfortable.” Dean said, finding the remote and turning the TV on. He flicked through until he found reruns of Law & Order.

“Well, you can sneak like food or something in. Or, um, ask questions like what his favorite color is.” Kevin said, his nose scrunching as he tried to figure out another math problem.

“Yes, that’ll work.” Dean said, sitting up straighter and speaking in a mocking tone. “‘Hi I’m Dean Winchester, I’ll be representing you in your case. Now, what’s your favorite color? Also, why did you slam your brother’s head into the kitchen counter?’”

Kevin dropped his pencil. “Okay when you put it that way asshole–”

“What if we send Kevin and Charlie in?” Sam spoke up, turning to his older brother.

“What would that accomplish?” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Well, they’re both skinny and like, less intimidating.”  
“Hey!” Kevin sat up, leaning forward to glare at Sam. “ _I_ can be intimidating!”

“Yeah sure, whatever Kev.” Sam dismissed the younger boy. “Anyway, they can ask the dumb questions and then maybe he’ll open up to them.”

Dean thought about it for a moment, that didn’t sound like a terrible idea. The court date wasn’t set yet, but Dean was sure that the arraignment would be within a couple of weeks. The actual court date would be set then, and who knows when that date could be. So Castiel would need to get over his no talking thing soon if they wanted to actually win this thing.

 

* * *

_January 4th, 2016_

“Cas.” Gabriel said, sitting across his little brother, frowning at the cuffs and chains on his brother. He could still see the little boy who had crawled into bed with him years ago when he had a nightmare.

Castiel looked up, seeing his older brother frowning. He wished that he were not the cause of his older brother frowning. The only family member that had taken the time to notice him, and Castiel has disappointed him.

“Cas please, talk to me.” He whispered, leaning forward over the table. Castiel turned his head away, he didn’t want this right now. He wanted to go stare at the wall of his cell. At least there he could only imagine Gabriel’s reaction. Now he knew what the real thing looked like.

Gabriel sighed, looking down at his hands instead. He looked at the time and stood up. “I have to go Castiel, I’ll see you tomorrow hopefully.” He mumbled, leaving.

Tomorrow was Lucifer’s memorial, Gabriel had to go pull out his best suit and make sure it wasn’t wrinkled.

He wanted to mourn his brother, and yet he felt that his other brother may deserve more attention. Gabriel wasn’t sure what to do with himself anymore.


	2. The Memorial

_ January 5th, 2016 _

Gabriel couldn’t believe–no, no he  _ could _ believe that reporters were so low as to show up at his brother’s memorial. He just didn’t want to believe it, and he wanted to smash all of their faces in. 

There were so many pictures of Lucifer surrounding the small family–now just three as far as Michael and Chuck were concerned–and it made Gabriel sick to his stomach. 

Lucifer was the favorite Shurley child. Everyone knew that, at least everyone in their family. Though if someone looked hard enough there was probably evidence for the whole world to see too. Lucifer often went with Dad on his business trips, Lucifer was the one Dad talked about the most. 

The brothers knew this, they accepted it. Michael was more interested in his work. Gabriel was more interested in gaining a late night show host position. Castiel–well Castiel just didn’t seem to care. 

Gabriel pulled himself out of his thoughts as he let the curtains fall in front of the window. He turned around and let out a big sigh, walking towards where Michael was standing next to their father. 

“Michael.” He whispered, gesturing for his older brother to follow him a little further away. Their aunt Amara stepped in to stand next to Chuck and comfort him. 

“What is it?” Michael asked, crossing his arms. His face lost the strong facade he kept up around others. In front of his younger brother, he was much more vulnerable. He couldn’t keep it up around Gabriel. 

“There’s a storm of reporters outside.” Gabriel whispered. “You want me to go out and like, distract them or something?” Gabriel felt he could use a good distraction himself.

Michael glanced back, Chuck was clutching Amara’s arm as he stared at the big picture they had of Lucifer in place of a coffin. Their brother’s body was still at the morgue, they were probably going to be cutting into him today. Gabriel grimaced at the thought. The two brothers watched Chuck take in a shaky breath and close his eyes, turning his face to the floor. 

“Someone needs to move them away.” Michael said. 

Gabe could tell his brother was remembering the last time they had to bury someone close to them. Chuck didn’t do well at their mother’s funeral–either. He only held himself together enough for his boys, but the three older brothers had all seen the effects their mother’s death caused on their father. And to think, that they had just recently gotten their father to quit alcohol all together…

“I’ll do it. I wanted some fresh air anyway.” Gabriel muttered, turning away, Michael grabbed his wrist, staring at him. 

“I know you went to see Castiel yesterday.” 

“So what?”

“So, stop talking to the guy who killed our brother.”

Gabriel jerked his wrist away from his brother. “Cas is our brother too, in case you forgot.”

Michael opened his mouth as if to answer, but Gabriel walked away before he could, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and opened the door of the funeral home as he started to light it up. 

Instantly reporters were turning their cameras and their phones towards him. 

“Mr. Shurley! Mr. Shurley!” Gabriel tuned out the overlapping shouting of the reporters, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

* * *

Dean let out a loud sigh as he watched Charlie and Kevin go through the security of the prison. “I can not  _ believe  _ that we are actually going through with this.” He mumbled to himself, handing Charlie a large legal pad and a pen.

“Well believe it mister!” Charlie said, smiling. She clicked the pen open and the small group followed the police officer down the hallway to one of the interrogation rooms. They were there before Castiel, so Charlie and Kevin got themselves comfortable in the hard chairs. 

“Dean you can’t stay here.” Charlie said as Dean leaned himself against the wall, crossing his arms. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. “We  _ already _ left Sam back home I don’t wanna leave you two in here with a  _ known murderer _ .” 

“Too bad cry-baby.” Charlie spoke up, Kevin fiddled with his thumbs. 

“K-Known murderer?” He squeaked.

“He’s not gonna hurt us Kev don’t worry.” Charlie said, patting the other boy on the head. 

“Anyway, you’re all buff and grr,” Charlie imitated Dean, “you’ll totally scare him again. Just go, I don’t know, bother Jody or somethin’. Maybe visit your pal down at the morgue.” She added the last thought with a whisper, and Dean rolled her eyes. 

Before he could respond, Castiel was being walked in. He sat down and his hands stayed on the table where they were still cuffed. Charlie scoffed. “Take those off!” She said to the cop who walked him in. The woman glanced at Dean, and Dean nodded–so the cuffs came off. 

After the woman left Dean cleared his throat. “Castiel, this is my other intern Kevin Tran, and my secretary Charlie Bradbury. Thought maybe you could talk to them.” 

Charlie gave him a pointed look. Dean cleared his throat again. “And now, uh, now I’ll be leaving for a little bit.” He said, leaving the room and walking down the long hallway. 

_ I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m doing this. _

* * *

 

Charlie scribbled in the corner of the legal pad. “So, Castiel. Cas, can I call you Cas?”

Castiel hesitated for a moment, but nodded. He waited for another question.  _ What were you arguing about? Why were you arguing? Why did you kill him Castiel? Why would you do this? Why are you so fucking useless? Why can’t you just– _

“What’s your favorite color?” Charlie asked, beaming at him. Castiel blinked, surprised.  _ My favorite color? What’s my favorite color? _

Without remembering that he wanted to not talk ever again, Castiel cleared his throat and opened his mouth. “Green, I suppose.” 

“Ooh, mine too!” Charlie said, writing something down on the legal pad. Castiel had no idea why his favorite color was important. 

“Okay, Kev do you have a question?” She asked, turning to the other boy. Kevin looked like he was sixteen, though Castiel figured he couldn’t be since he was an intern. 

Kevin cleared his throat. “Uh, what’s your favorite animal?” He asked. 

_ Animal. Animal. _ Castiel didn’t really like animals, not so much as he liked insects–bugs, that’s why he was getting a degree in studying them. “Uh, I like bees.” He answered, which wasn’t a complete lie. He did enjoy studying bees–their habits, where they lived. Though he did enjoy studying many of the insects he has studied so far. Another favorite was the Monarch butterfly. 

Kevin opened his mouth, a confused expression on his face. Though, whatever he was going to say he apparently thought better of and instead closed his mouth. He leaned on the table with both hands holding his head up. “Mines’ lions.” He said after a moment. 

“Do you have any questions for us Cas?” Charlie asked, scribbling something down on her pad. She had quite a bit written there, though Castiel couldn’t read upside down. He had no idea what she could be writing down that was important. 

_ Question for them? A question for them? _ Castiel tried to think of a question. He really couldn’t think of one. But eventually he thought of one. “Why are you working for Mr. Winchester?” He asked. 

Kevin answered first. “Nobody else had any intern positions open. And I needed to do an internship for school.” Castiel nodded, it was a logical answer. 

“I knew Dean since we were in college.” Charlie started off, smirking. “When he said he was gonna just start his own law firm ‘stead of working for someone else I knew he’d need someone there to tell him where to go and what to do.” She laughed, and Castiel felt himself smile a little bit. 

“Okay, my turn.” Charlie said after she finished writing something else down. She thought for a moment, the pen tapping against the corner of her mouth. “Okay, so, what were you studying in college?”

Castiel took a moment to explain what he was studying. “Entomology. I study bugs.” He said, smiling a little. Kevin was next. 

“What the heck do you even do with a degree like that?” He asked, and Charlie elbowed him in the side. “Oh-oh I’m s–”

“No, no it’s okay.” Castiel said, his voice still soft. “I, I was thinking of working in a Botanical garden, or maybe with a butterfly sanctuary.”

Kevin nodded, gestured to Castiel. It was his turn to ask a question. Castiel sighed and wracked his brain for another one. 

“Do you like your jobs?” He asked, and Charlie let out a particularly loud sarcastic laugh. 

“Do I like a low salary?” She asked. “Not really. But for real, I do like it. These guys are my only friends after all.” She reached over and grabbed Kevin in a neck hold, and holding him close.

After fighting his way out of that, Kevin tried to fix his messed up hair as he answered. “Like Charlie said–I don’t like that I don’t get a big salary, but I mean they’re good people.” 

Charlie leaned forward on the table, grinning wickedly at Castiel. “I could tell you  _ tons _ of stories about Dean and Sam that they’d  _ hate _ for you to hear.”

* * *

 

Benny took a slow sip of his tea before dropping the file he was holding on the table in the second floor lounge. He was supposed to be finishing the report of a 16 year old boy who had committed suicide. 

Even though he had gotten used to the bodies and the occasional gore that came with his job–there was always cases such as these that got him sometimes. The poor boy deserved more out of life than ending up in a morgue at only sixteen years old.

He heard the door open, and without looking to see who it was he’d already guessed. “Was wonderin’ when you’d finally show up to snoop around.” 

Dean had his hands shoved in his pants pockets. The expensive looking suit Dean had bought himself looked less new every time the two friends met up. Benny asked him once why he spent so much on a suit that was so expensive. Dean responded that since he didn’t always have the best manners, he needed to make a good physical impression with people. Benny thought that was utter shit, but didn’t bother to voice that thought.

“What? Didja miss me?” Dean asked, smirking as he strolled through the longue and up to where Benny sat at the table. He didn’t take a seat though, kept himself standing. Benny’s Southern drawl brought out Dean’s own drawl every time the two talked to each other. Despite how hard Dean attempted to cover it up.

“Naw, I don’t miss your yapping and whining.” Benny grinned, then it fell from his face. “I know why you’re here though, and I don’t know what you can get from this one Dean. It’s pretty clean-cut.” 

Dean shrugged. “Humor me.”. 

Sighing, the older man stood up from the table, leaving his cup of tea there. It’ll likely go cold by the time Dean left–but that was alright it was almost finished anyway. He gestured for Dean to follow him into his office, and Benny went through his files before pulling out the one he wanted. 

Lucifer Shurley’s dead profile was the first picture in the file. “You can look at it, but only here though. This file doesn’t leave this room ya hear me?” Benny said, walking to his office door to close the binds. “Just got appointed as Chief, don’t feel like losin’ it so soon.”

Dean sat down in Benny’s chair, the other man huffing as he took the seat across from it. Flipping through the file, Dean saw that it was pretty cut and dry. Three blows to the right temple from someone smashing his head into the corner of a counter. The picture did a good job of showing the damage to Lucifer’s temple. No internal organ problems, perfectly healthy. Until his head was practically bashed in, that is. 

Closing the file and dropping it on the desk, Dean leaned back in the chair. “I didn’t expect much, Ben. Just figured I’d stop by and look at it anyway.” He shrugged again. “Didn’t think it’d hurt if I did.”

“It’d sure hurt me if they found out I was showin’ you files.” Benny pointed out. 

“Well,” Dean said with a smirk, “I guess we won’t be tellin’ anyone that you gave me ‘em then huh?” 

“I guess not.” Benny sighed, leaning back in his chair. “So, what’re you gonna use to win this case?”

Dean clicked his tongue. “No Mr. _Medical Examiner_ _Chief_ , I won’t be tellin’ you all my plans. That’d be a conflict of interest wouldn’t it? You’ll be takin’ the stand!” 

Benny rolled his eyes. “If they want me to, then yeah I  _ might _ . But I am curious, Dean. How’re you gonna spin this one? They got the call, hell they managed to lift a partial fingerprint from the scene and will probably be able to match it to the kid. They found him with  _ actual blood _ on his hands.”

Dean mimed zipping his lips shut. He so far had no idea how he’d spin it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun with his old friend.

* * *

 

Sam hummed as he pulled his laptop open, pulling Google up and typing in the name;  _ Castiel Shurley. _

There wasn’t very much that came up. The first article, the most viewed article, being one about the recent murder. Then there were the three next articles  _ also _ about the murder. Sam skipped over them, he didn’t need those articles. He scrolled down to find an article about Castiel in his younger years. He found a ton of articles that all talked about Chuck Shurley and his kids, but they were all old interviews from a couple years ago. 

_ Senator Chuck Shurley’s Son in Hospital for A Broken Leg? _ Sam clicked on the article. It was a strange title, and it drew Sam in. It was an old article written for a newspaper, though a picture of the article has been published in the archives of the newspapers history. 

Sam raised his eyebrows at the title, and decided to dive right in. 

_ It’s no secret that Chuck Shurley has recently gained some fame since his recent opposition to the proposed bill that would make it legal to arrest homeless people, and it’s no secret he has four sons. He has not tried hiding his family at all in his recent claim to fame unlike some other senators who prefer to keep their professional life away from their personal life–usually with good reason. _

_ So why is it now that when his youngest son Castiel–just four years old–breaks his arm he suddenly has something to hide? Why has he not mentioned this in any of his recent interviews? _

_ He recently appeared on the Today Show, but all talk was about the proposed bill. He also talked about three of his kids recent ‘adventures’ as he likes to call them. However there was no mention of Castiel. There’s no mention of his youngest son anywhere.  _

_ I spoke with an inside source who claims that the man came into the ER late at night with the crying boy in his arms and his other son Gabriel–seven years old–in tow. When asked how the boy broke his arm, Shurley could not come up with an answer for a long time. It wasn’t until young Gabriel said that the younger boy fell off the swings that the doctors received any answer. _

_ It could be possible that Shurley just didn’t feel like overwhelming his son incase people were to try and visit. However, just four years ago when his son Michael–then seven years old–had broken an arm too Shurley had been open about the accident. Michael had broken his arm falling off the swings, much like they say Castiel has broken his.  _

_ It’s very odd that Shurley has wanted to keep this very hush-hush. It makes one wonder, what happened to Castiel Shurley? _

Sam skimmed over the article again, clicked back to the previous page and scrolled through the rest of the links. Many of them were nothing like the first article. Most of them just had Castiel’s name in it because he was spoken about by his father. Or because he won a spelling bee in elementary school. 

There was only one article, and the evidence was a little circumstantial. The author likely wrote it thinking that Chuck Shurley abused his own child, though knowing that Castiel had killed his  _ brother _ , it made Sam think. The evidence made his stomach flip. 

He tried to look for anything more under just  _ Shurley Family. _ There was nothing more that would relate to Castiel.  _ The Shurley Family, taking a Well Deserved Vacation after their Father’s Long Campaign. Michael Shurley Accepted to Harvard Law School, Father Throws Large Party.  _ Nothing else screamed anything at Sam. 

It was only one article, one article from just one short moment of Castiel Shurley’s life. One short part of his life against twenty four years of silence. But that one article made Sam think, his head connecting the dots and his brain already coming up with a possible defense. 

Sam picked up his phone and called Dean. He tapped his foot as he waited for his brother to finally pick up his phone. Dean picked up after the fifth ring. 

“We need to pull up Castiel’s medical records.” Sam said. “Now.”

* * *

 

_ April 23rd, 1996 _

_ “Gabriel what are you doing?” Michael asked, watching his little brother reach for the cookie jar. “You know father said no more cookies.” _

_ The first-grader’s hand darted back from the jar, which was pushed far back on the counter for this very reason. “No he didn’t.” Gabriel said, crossing his arms. Michael imitated his little brother, tapping his foot on the kitchen floor.  _

_ “DAD!” Michael screamed, turning around. “DAD! GABRIEL’S STEALING A COOKIE!” Gabriel jumped from the step-stool, pushing it back into it’s place. As Chuck ran into the kitchen, Gabriel ran to the fridge door.  _

_ “Gabriel Joseph Sh–” _

_ “Daddy I didn’t!” Gabriel shouted before the rest of his name spilled from his father’s lips. “I was getting a glass of milk for before bedtime. Mikey’s lying I swear!”  _

_ Chuck crossed his arms and stared at his two sons. “I don’t care who’s lying, the both of you go get ready to bed.” He looked at his watch and let out a groan. “It’s past both of your bed-times.”  _

_ Gabriel shut the fridge door and walked behind Michael out of the kitchen. When they were out of their father’s site upstairs, Michael shoved Gabriel in the shoulder. “Why’re you such a liar Gabe.” _

_ “I just wanted one cookie!” Gabriel pouted. He opened his mouth to go on but the two of them heard a loud crash coming from the bathroom, and then immediately after loud crying. The two boys, wondering what had happened, quickly ran to the end of the hall and peered inside of their bathroom.  _

_ Lucifer was standing on the stepstool getting ready to put toothpaste on his brush, while their youngest brother Castiel lay on his stomach crying. Gabriel ran forward and went to help his little brother, and he heard Lucifer mumble something.  _

_ Chuck was there just seconds after, but he was very angry. He moved Gabriel out of the way to pick Castiel up. When the little boy was picked up, everyone could see right away that something was not right about his wrist. And when his arm was moved the wrong way Castiel let out a loud screech.  _

_ Gabriel could see that his little brother’s hand seemed pushed to the side, with his wrist  jutting out to the other side.  _

_ He looked at his brothers. Michael seemed to look a little sick at the sight of Castiel’s wrist. But Lucifer seemed only momentarily bothered, before his face hardened again and he started brushing his teeth.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked up if toddlers could fracture their wrists for this (I mean,, 4 years old isn't really a ""toddler"" but close enough)  
> And then I looked up what they look like and I saw a picture of a reall old person's wrist and literally felt so sick at the thought of a chubby little kid having a fractured radius. (Because that's what Castiel has btw cause I don't think it's really mentioned anywhere)  
> The things I look up in the name of writing honestly. 
> 
> Anyway people's comments on the first chapter made me go hot damn gotta pump out the next one fast!! So here it is my dudes.  
> Please comment I need them to survive.  
> Uhhhh, gotta Zayn?


	3. Who Do We Believe?

_ January 5th, 2016 _

Charlie and Kevin considered their interview very helpful. Though they didn’t ask any hard questions, they definitely got Castiel to at least talk. They also got him to warm up to them. And Charlie liked to think her stories got Castiel to feel less intimidated by both Dean and Sam. 

Knowing his lawyer once got super smashed in college that he woke up in his boxers in the bathtub covered in honey–would probably help Castiel to feel less intimidated by Dean. And knowing that his lawyer’s little brother slept with a stuffed animal until he went to college would make Castiel feel less intimidated by Sam. At least, Charlie hoped it would. 

Her and Kevin walked out of there with many scribbles on the legal pad. Charlie wrote down all of Cas’ answers. She didn’t think they’d come in handy–knowing his favorite bug was a bee wasn’t going to keep him from being convicted of first degree murder–but she wasn’t a lawyer. She’d hand the pad over to Dean and let him know that they’ll be able to get questions answered now. 

As they walked out of the police station Dean was waiting for them. He seemed jumpy, and Charlie raised her eyebrows. “You get somethin’ good from the slab?” She mumbled when they go close enough. They didn’t want anyone to overhear, though there was barely any people there to hear anything. 

Dean smiled. “Sam says he thinks he’s got something.” He gestured that they walk up the street, towards the subway station. He leaned in closer as they walked. “Says we should pull up Castiel’s medical records.” 

“His medical records?” Charlie murmured as they walked up the street. Kevin was behind them, trying to keep up but there wasn’t enough room for him to stand next to them. 

“Yeah, he said he’d explain later. What’d you get from your interview?” Dean asked, and Charlie cleared her throat as she looked down at the yellow pad. 

In a serious voice she spoke. “We now know that his favorite color is green, he likes bees, and he wants to work in a butterfly house–or something of the sorts.” She added the last part with a smirk thrown Dean’s way. The man let out a groan. 

“Really? You got nothing useful for me?” He grabbed the legal pad. “Gimmie this. Color, bees.  _ Damn _ Charlie,  _ thanks _ for the help.” She took the pad back from him and rolled her eyes as they walked underground for the subway. 

“Listen, I got you what you wanted. He’s talking! I mean he didn’t say a whole lot but at least he talked! Also, he trusts me and Kev so as long as one of us are in the room I’m sure he’ll feel a lot more comfortable and he’ll actually answer your questions.” As they stood there waiting for the subway to pull up Charlie cross her arms and stared up at her long-time friend. “So, you’re welcome.” 

Dean sighed. “Fine, thanks. Guess I’ll just kick Sam out during the interviews. Your handwriting is better than his anyway.” He added. Kevin spoke up. 

“Can I come to a few interviews?” He asked, Dean shrugged. 

“Can you Kevin?” Dean answered back. The younger man rolled his eyes and turned away. 

“I’m not playing this game today.” He said, and his two companions laughed loudly–startling a few people nearby. 

* * *

When Dean, Charlie, and Kevin got back to the house Sam was pacing a hole into the floor of their livingroom. He was so focused that Dean had to wave both hands in the air to get the tall man to stop pacing.

“Now why do you want Castiel’s medical records?” Dean asked as he chucked his shoes off at the door. 

“I found this article, here look!” Sam ran for his laptop, bringing it to the kitchen counter where all three of them could read it while Sam went back to pacing. “I mean it’s just  _ one _ article from a long time ago–and it’d be mostly circumstantial evidence but–”

“Sam just shut up and let us finish reading before you go off on a rant.” Charlie said, before turning away from Sam to look at the article. Dean finished before the two others and turned around, staring at the floor and probably thinking. 

Kevin was the last to finish–or maybe he reread it, Sam wasn’t sure. When he turned around he immediately had something to say. “It’d be all circumstantial unless we get one of the brothers or Chuck himself to testify.”

“Yes, yes  _ I know _ Kev.” Sam rolled his eyes. “But if we get Castiel’s medical records who knows what else might be in there. Maybe he’s got some other things that some psychiatrist or-or-or child advocate could say is common in child abuse victims.” 

“Well we can’t just unlock Castiel’s medical records without his consent.” Dean said, he then looked at Charlie. “Would he be up for giving his medical records over?”

Charlie let out a sigh. “I don’t know. He was still really closed when we left him, I’m afraid if we start bothering him with that now he might close up again.”

“And then there’s the problem that he might not have gone to the hospital much after that.” Kevin pointed out. “What if the abuse was not physical enough to cause major injuries? There’d be no need to go to the hospital.”

Pouting, Sam went back to the couch and sat down. “It’s just a start guys.” He mumbled. 

“I know, you tried Sam.” Charlie said, patting him on the edge before jumping over and landing on the couch. “But I don’t think we’ll find much. Or we just won’t get his medical records period.”

Sam closed his eyes and pictured Castiel. He was shorter than his two lawyers, with skinny arms and legs.  _ Why would you murder your brother in cold blood? _

_ No defense wounds. No defense wounds. No defense wounds. _ The words echoed in Sam’s head. He had a thought coming but he just couldn’t quite grasp it.  _ An x-ray! _

“Dean!” Sam jumped up, standing tall as the idea came to him. “An x-ray! Bones show remodeling after they’re broken right?”

Dean thought for a moment. Sam waited in silence for his brother to realize that  _ this is a great idea _ but the moment never came. Instead Dean sat up slowly and sighed. 

“That’s still assuming that Castiel would give permission.” He started off. “That’s also assuming that all the abuse was physical. After that one stint, Lucifer could have taken to strictly emotional abuse. He was what? Four,  _ five _ years older than Castiel? Though he probably didn’t do much more than ‘ _ I hate you _ ’ at the time the abuse could have worsened as Lucifer grew older. And it’s hard to prove emotional abuse in these court systems.” 

Sam sat back down again. “Thanks for crushing my hopes and dreams again, Dean.” 

His brother pulled a throw pillow from underneath him and threw it at him. It hit Sam in the face. “I’m just trying to keep you from assuming that everything will work out in the end. Sometimes it won’t. This isn’t a fairytale Sam.”

* * *

Gabriel pulled his coat around him tighter as he walked down the busy street. He kept his hat low and his head turned to the floor. Currently he had a meeting to attend to with his father and brother. They were going to meet the prosecution lawyer, and Gabriel felt wrong. He’d been re-thinking everything, but he was pretty sure that Castiel was in the wrong here.

He was sure that Lucifer was mean to Castiel, but what if as a kid he just saw the relationship differently than it was? Lucifer was hard on Castiel, but so was Gabriel, Michael, and Chuck. Castiel’s birth  _ was _ the reason their mother died. The older brothers who understood this were never quite over the loss of their mother. They kind of blamed Castiel, but they weren’t that mean were they? 

Did they all take it out on Castiel? Gabriel could remember a few times when he tried to avoid Castiel. He could remember times when Chuck would hand the baby off to Michael or Lucifer for a moment because he couldn’t look at Castiel. He could remember the times when Lucifer had told Castiel it was his fault their mother died. 

But, they were kids then. Was it really their fault? They weren’t always harsh on Castiel for the death of their mother. They didn’t always blame him, and they grew out of it as they all grew older. At least, Gabriel and Michael stopped treated Castiel so badly as they grew older. At least, that’s what Gabriel believed happened. That’s what happened, right?

Gabriel couldn’t think of a moment when things got violent. He could think of various times that the brother’s got physical with each other, but they were all boys and sometimes they just got too physical with each other. And sometimes a small shove that Lucifer gave Michael was a hard push for Castiel because of the age difference. But that was just an accident right?

Visiting his brother Castiel in jail made Gabriel feel as though he were betraying Lucifer. But, helping Lucifer’s lawyer felt as though he were betraying Castiel. The whole thing was a mess that Gabriel wished someone else could clean up while he played video games–like how it was when he was younger. 

But now he was twenty-seven years old. He couldn’t make other people clean up his messes anymore. He had to be a big kid now, he had to make a decision. Part of him wanted to turn around and go visit the prison again, go make Castiel tell him what happened. Maybe try to understand why this all happened.

Instead, he kept walking until four blocks later he found the District Attorney's building. Taking a big breath, Gabriel walked through and prepared himself for the meeting. 

* * *

When Castiel was brought back to his cell, he perched on the edge of his bed and stared at the wall. It was something he’d developed as a habit. He didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to have nightmares anymore.

He knew that his father and Michael hated him. Gabriel, he was fairly confident that Gabriel did not like him anymore, but he still foolishly clung to a shred of hope that maybe– _ maybe– _ his brother didn’t hate him. 

Gabriel must have gotten him the lawyers–Castiel felt that Gabriel did because he was the only family member to visit him in prison. But in that meeting, Castiel couldn’t tell what side Gabriel was on. He was confused, he was a little sad too. He had hoped that one family member would still want him. Maybe one family member would hear what happened and tell Castiel that it wasn’t his fault, that it was Lucifer’s fault. 

He turned his conversation with Kevin and Charlie over in his head. It was fun, light-hearted, and he didn’t really have to think about what was going on during it. Charlie and Kevin didn’t make him feel pressured, they were not bigger than him and they didn’t seem to hate him. Then again, maybe did hate him and were just good at pretending they didn’t hate him. Kevin seemed a little jumpy at first, maybe he was scared of Castiel. 

And Castiel would understand that. He looked down at his hands, they’d been clean for days but sometimes he swore he could still feel the blood on them. He felt like he could still feel Lucifer’s hair slipping through his fingers. These hands  _ killed _ someone. Not just  _ anyone _ , they killed Castiel’s own  _ brother _ . They took the life of someone, these were the hands of a killer. They weren’t the hands of someone who you’d want to hug or even touch. 

But for that hour or so where he just easily chatted with Charlie and Kevin? It felt like being in college again, talking with the few acquaintances he had. Just easily chatting with them about meaningless things, not worried about the past or future. Just,  _ talking _ . 

And yet stepping out of the room and walking back down the hallway of other criminals to his cell–it reminded Castiel that this wasn’t just any normal day. This wasn’t just any normal conversation. He was a criminal, a murderer, and those were his lawyers’ secretaries. Or, well, Charlie was a secretary, Kevin was another intern. 

Either way, that conversation was likely just to get him talking. And Castiel hadn’t wanted to talk. He didn’t want to get away with murder. He didn’t want to have to face the world again as a free man. How would they treat him? 

Would they understand him? But even knowing his past, Castiel didn’t believe that he deserved their pity.  _ Boo-hoo you had a bad life, doesn’t mean you can kill your brother and get away with it _ . Castiel thought to himself. 

They’d likely always think of him as a murderer. They’d always remember him that way. And how would Castiel ever get a job? Who would hire him with this hanging behind him every step of the way? Would his  _ college _ even take him back, or would they turn him out with a half finished degree?

Thinking so much made Castiel’s head hurt, and he sighed as he turned to lie down on his hard cot.  _ Just stop thinking. Just stop thinking. Just stop thinking. _

When he fell asleep, he dreamed of an alternate universe, one where a woman with dark hair and blue eyes smiled as she swung him around. One where their family was happy together. One where his father and brothers loved him.

* * *

 

_ January 5th, 2016 _

Amara Shurley wasn’t sure what the hell she was supposed to do. The news of her nephew’s death was completely shocking to her. What was not shocking was that her brother has taken his older son’s side instead of even hearing what his youngest son has to say. 

She comforted her brother at the memorial, but left to herself she had doubts. 

Amara remembered every time her younger brother brought home one of his bouncing baby boys. Michael was a surprise yet a blessing. Lucifer was yet another surprise, though an obvious favorite of her brother’s. Gabriel was actually planned, and was supposed to be the last child they had. But when Laura announced she was pregnant again, the couple seemed excited to add a fourth to their family. 

Everything went to hell when Laura for some odd reason took a tumble down the stairs. Amara could remember the day well, she could never forget that day or the following few months when she temporarily moved in with her little brother until the family was able to adjust to the loss. 

Looking back on it all, Amara wasn’t sure what to think. The side of Lucifer she almost always saw was a happy little boy. Her nephew Lucifer who asked a girl to go with him to prom when she had nobody to go with. Her nephew Lucifer who volunteered at the shelter, and worked a paying job at the same time. Her nephew who helped Gabriel with his homework almost every day. Her nephew who used to get so excited when he heard the ice cream truck that he’d trip over his own feet. 

It was hard to imagine her cute little nephew trying to hurt anyone. But it was equally just as hard to picture her youngest nephew hurting anyone. 

Castiel was a small and weak looking child, and though he’s filled out some he still retains that weak look about him. He would quietly help people out at school, and once assumed blame for dropping paint when his friend was the one who actually did it in kindergarten. Castiel was so innocent looking that Amara couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone let alone his older brother. 

Amara tossed and turned in her bed, trying to get comfortable. She gave up and instead left the guest room to go into the kitchen. 

The entire kitchen and dining room was taped off from them. The family was not supposed to touch the area for another couple of days, because the investigators wanted to do one last walk-through before cleaning up the scene. 

The kitchen looked clean for the most part, everything just how it was left from that night. Except for the pool of dried blood in front of the counter between the sink and stove. Amara has seen it so many times now, but it still doesn’t immediately connect in her head that that’s her nephew’s blood. 

Amara felt like her throat was closing in on her, and she was forced to turn away. She stared up at the large staircase instead. How many times had she helped Lucifer walk down that when he was still a toddler? How many times had she helped Castiel  _ too _ , walk down that staircase when he was still a toddler?

Who was she supposed to believe? Who was she supposed to help? Amara didn’t know, but for now she stuck on her brother’s side. Family was supposed to stick together, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm posting them really fast because I need comments to keep me going lmao  
> Anyway, here it was. I'm sorry if the last part with Amara was a little choppy? I'm very tired right now and I should be preparing for a DBQ tomorrow but I'm not because I really wanted to post this instead.   
> Please please please leave a comment I value comments so much higher than kudos. Kudos are real nice too but comments and such make me a lot happier you guys don't even understand.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT (now that i have time):  
> This story is one that I wanted to play around with morals and stuff. Not so much of the characters but more of fuck with your morals. (Though their morals will all be a little wonky and I promise I don't agree with everything my characters will do) I don't think I have one character that will not do something bad at some point, and probably all characters at some point will be viewed in a good light and/or do good things. So it's up for you to decide who's really good and who's really bad–because nobody should be perfectly good or perfectly bad in a story. (That's where all the fun is in debating duhhh)  
> Hopefully I'll do good writing this, and thank you if you leave a comment!


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